The Modern Misadventures of Merlin
by Tricked Wings
Summary: There's not all that much trouble a wizard can get into in the modern world, is there? Honestly, living with your best friend-who may or may not treat you like his personal servant, and pay you as much-his sister, and his sister's best friend, life should be easy, right? Not when it comes down to Wal-Mart, crappy music, and unexpected crushes.


**Author's note: Alright, I'm posting this for no reason other than the fact that I really need to post something, considering I have posted nothing since July. This is well-written crack, honestly. Enjoy.**

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The Modern Misadventures of Merlin

_Chapter One: Wretched Walmart – Part One_

'Twas an ordinary day for the likes of Merlin: running around, doing every single little thing Arthur Pendragon asked of him. Not that he minded a whole lot, mind you. The only time he really felt that the job was overly difficult was when Arthur attempted to insult his intelligence—though retorting with the word "prat" usually shut him up—and when he was asked to perform the dreaded task.

There was only one task he _ever_ dreaded, and that was… going to _Wal-Mart_.

Merlin _hated_ Wal-Mart with a fiery passion. The bright lights, greyed linoleum tile, the smell of produce several days old—that wasn't even the worst of it all. Unruly children screaming at the top of their lungs, begging their mothers and fathers to buy them whatever toy or candy had caught their eye, was one of the absolute worst part of the discount supermarket. It was overall obnoxious, unnecessary, and generally uncouth, as the parents didn't even put a feeble effort into getting their little brats to stop their excess pleading.

The over-zealous begging of children no older the seven was one of the major things Merlin despised, but that didn't mean there weren't other things included in his disdain. He also hated how hygiene seemed to exist in an entire other universe than the one that Wal-Mart existed in. Dirt appeared to collect in every corner possible, even in the cardboard corners of detergent boxes. Then one would have to drag the dirt home with them if they wanted to purchase the product, and who knows how many germs gathered to party in their little filth-constructed huts. Truthfully, Merlin didn't even like to think about such things.

So, when Arthur advised they all go to Wal-Mart—all being his sister, Morgana, her best friend, Guinevere, and Merlin—Merlin felt a little piece of himself die on the inside.

They were all lounging around the red and gold decorated living room, Morgana's attention turned towards the forty-eight inch flat screen television that was currently playing anything Investigation Discovery decided to air. Currently, it seemed to be an episode of "Nightmare Next Door".

"It was the ex-boyfriend! He murdered her! I know it!" She shrieked, suddenly startled by the body that was portrayed in the re-enactment of the father walking in to the kitchen only to find his sixteen-year-old daughter brutally murdered.

Merlin preferred not to watch those kinds of shows, but the criminal psyche seemed to fascinate Morgana, so he tolerated the nastiness and unappeal those shows would present him with. After all, it was Arthur and Morgana's house that he and Gwen lived in, so he tended to keep his mouth shut when it came to their choices of entertainment.

So, while Morgana was insistent that the ex-boyfriend had dark intentions, Merlin was sitting beside her on the tan leather couch, busying himself with the final _Harry Potter_ novel for the fortieth time. That series was one of his all-time favourites, probably because the characters were all so relatable to him. As far as magic went, anyway.

And Gwen was occupying herself with crocheting a new, grey woollen hat for her brother. Merlin was sure he'd appreciate the thought, but, in all honesty, he more than likely would not appreciate the hat itself. To Merlin, it was one of the most hideous things he'd ever seen, and it looked more like something a gang member would discard behind a dumpster or toss into a gutter. It was painfully obvious that Gwen was not, in fact, an artsy type, nor could she master crocheting. Not then, and not ever.

It was just as Merlin was having these thoughts that Gwen piped up, over Morgana's still incessant insisting that she knew exactly who the criminal was. "This is turning out amazingly, Merlin! Look at it!" She held what looked like a deformed, dead kitten, and Merlin held back a grimace. He couldn't hurt Guinevere's feelings, after all.

"Yes, Gwen, it looks…" Merlin pondered what he should say, or could say, without lying, but without sounding like a complete and utter prat. Gwen gave him a curious look, but just before she opened her mouth to ask what he truly thought of the 'hat', Morgana let out a high-pitch shout once again.

"No! It wasn't the father! Can't police see that?!" Gwen and Merlin were taken by surprise at the Pendragon girl's seemingly unnecessary outburst, and they both turned to look at Morgana with wide eyes.

Thankfully, rather than Gwen being able to ask Merlin once again what he thought of the utter disaster of the 'hat', Arthur waltzed in through the door. A look of distaste on his face, he didn't look all that pleased. "Morgana!" Arthur scolded. "I could hear you all the way down the driveway! What are you doing?!"

Merlin stole a glance outside, and yes, sure enough, Arthur's deep red 2006 Impala was parked in the two-car driveway, right beside Morgana's green BMW. Once it was confirmed that Arthur hadn't appeared out of nowhere—not that Merlin had even remotely thought of that in the first place—he turned his attention back to the two siblings' conversation.

"I was watching the telly, Arthur, and the police are obviously dimwits. I had to correct them," Morgana stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms, making a statement that she was clearly not going to be open to _anything_ Arthur had to say. She was not going to take any criticism on the matter, nor was she going to allow Arthur to sway her idea of that fact that she was in the right, even though by law she had probably gone over the legal decibel level.

Arthur raised an eyebrow and looked at the television screen. "Ah," he said slowly, and Merlin was sure he could hear a strong mocking infliction on his voice. "The police were wrong about a commercial for Tampax. I'm sure you know all about that, Morgana. You could be on the menstrual police force." He rolled his eyes and walked over to the open kitchen that was directly adjoined to the brown-carpeted den.

Morgana kept her cool, knowing her brother was only trying to rile her up. "Yes, well, Arthur, I'm sure you could do wonders for the ADWTFMAWKI community," she said, her voice as smooth as ice, and a cold smirk to match. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief—as they usually did when she was baiting her half-brother—and Merlin briefly wondered what 'ADWTFMAWKI' could possibly stand for.

It appeared as though Arthur froze on the spot, staring blankly into the refrigerator he had just opened that was nearly out of food. Apparently he had previous knowledge of this newfound acronym, at least that's what Merlin assumed. He watched on curiously, while Gwen had resumed wasting her time on the dreadful tangle of wool.

"You know what?" Arthur announced rather loudly, and Merlin figured it was because he wanted Morgana to shut up about whatever she had been talking about. "You three should go to Wal-Mart."

Merlin's heart dropped. Out of all the scenarios that could've played out, out of all the things Arthur could've suggested they do, he wanted them to go _there_. No, it wasn't going to happen. There was no way in Hell that Merlin was going to go.

"I don't know, Arthur," Gwen said, looking up from the mess of yarn that was destined to be sent to her brother, though its true destiny should have been a rubbish bin. "I'm working on this hat for Elyan, and I can't just leave it now."

Arthur threw one glance at the hat, and, though Merlin could've sworn he heard him scoff at the horrendous hat under his breath, his reply was surprisingly tactful. "I'm sure you've been working very hard on it, Gwen. Wouldn't it be nice to take a break and get some fresh air?"

"The scent of wilted vegetables is not fresh, Arthur," Morgana replied, stating some of Merlin's thoughts out loud.

"Surely it's not that bad."

"Oh, it is, Arthur," Merlin added, deciding it would be wisest to back Morgana up on this one. He really didn't want to die from choking on the mixed smell of five-day veggies and stale, week-old bread that was probably growing a kind of mould no one should know of or hear about.

Arthur rolled his eyes, obviously fed up with what he observed as idiocy from his sister and friend. "Alright then, _Mer_lin," he said, drawing out the 'Mer' like he always did when he was irritated. "How about I go along with you? I will prove that all of you are spouting nonsense."

Morgana smirked, pleased with her brother's sudden willingness to go into the pit that was Wal-Mart. Merlin, however, shot her a worried glance. He had a feeling that she had wanted him to tag along, and was planning something horrendous. If there was anything anyone knew Morgana enjoyed, it was making mischief, especially when it involved Arthur.


End file.
